


Major Overtures

by skeletncloset (alexa_dean)



Series: More Than Ropes Will Ever Do [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Anal Fingering, Assassins & Hitmen, BAMF Jensen, Barebacking, Breeding, Dubious Consent, Forced Mpreg, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Manhandling, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Size Kink, Teen Jensen, Underage Sex, grooming kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexa_dean/pseuds/skeletncloset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they come knocking at the door, Jared’s almost tempted to tell them to fuck off, but showing a bit of rebellion now won’t do him any favors. Given Jared’s reputation, they won’t expect him to go MIA. He wants to keep it that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Major Overtures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tebtosca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebtosca/gifts).



> Re-do as you guys might already know. Some of it's the same, some of it's new, and some of it is pornier. Concrit is very much welcome. I hope each part transitions seamlessly now.

  
When they come knocking at the door, Jared’s almost tempted to tell them to fuck off, but showing a bit of rebellion now won’t do him any favors. Given Jared’s reputation, they won’t expect him to go MIA. He wants to keep it that way.

He opens the door, bare-ass naked, taking pleasure when the men on watch look away uncomfortably, but then thinks rather belatedly he really should have put something on when they part to allow James Patrick Stuart, Ephor of Kallon, second only to the duel kingship of the State, to his door.

_Fuck._

“So,” Stuart begins, nonplussed and smiling, like Jared isn’t standing there with his balls airing out in the breeze. This guy—there’s a reason he’s made it so far up in rank, why he’s been chosen as primary advisor to their young king and seen as a bit of a threat to the other. “I take it you were successful.”    
  
Jared deliberately blocks his line of sight with the breadth of his smile and a quick step to the side. Jared doesn’t care who the fuck is at his door when it comes to Jensen.  
  
“Never expect otherwise, Sir,” Jared answers smoothly with minimal emotion. “At least not from me.”  
  
Stuart laughs. “No, I suppose not. I’m very happy to see you enjoying yourself. Please take your time and consider this a rare time of leisure.” Stuart’s tone is playful, but his eyes are not. “Good work, Padalecki. You can expect a promotion for your services.”  
  
“Sir, this is routine, I haven’t—“  
  
Stuart cuts him off with a raised hand. “Expect preferential treatment from now on. I’ve already signed off on your request for 30-day leave. You can pick it up as soon as your assignment is done with. Tapping will be your supervisor until such point we meet our objective.”  
  
Stuart’s eyes assess Jared one last time, his teeth gleaming white, before turning away and dismissing him. “I will keep in contact. You’re free to carry on.”  
  
As soon as the door shuts, Jared collapses against it with a “fuck”. He rakes a hand through his hair and stares at the inscrutable bundle in the middle of the bed, fights the urge to pace in circles trying not to think about who it is he’s sleeping with and how much harder the state’s preoccupation with Jensen’s potential pregnancy has made everything.  
  
Jared has never once experienced the form of micromanaging he’s receiving now. Even on his toughest assignments. This is a  _routine breeding_  for fuck’s sake. The state of Kallon might just as well hold Jared’s dick for him and fuck Jensen with it the way they’re riding Jared’s ass about it, if the very thought alone didn’t stir a near murderous rage in Jared.  
  
The whole thing screams of  _holy-shit_  and  _what-the-fuck_ and  _where’re-the-exits?_

First course of action in the morning is to contact Chad and Lauren. If Jared were to trust anyone it would be them. They’d grown up together in the agoge, fought together, shed blood together, and grieved together. They’re all that’s left of the old crew of nine. Around the time Cindy died, they split up by mutual agreement. It’s far harder to complete a mission when someone thinks there is something left to lose.

Jared should remind himself of it. But there is no use, not when he can curl in close behind Jensen. He runs the back of his hand over Jensen’s cheek, unnaturally smooth, with not a trace of stubble on him, might take him days to grow. Too young for what’s expected of him and smart enough to know it. Jared knows it, but he wants it selfishly anyway.

Lauren would say it’s the caveman in him kicking into gear and he should quit his possessive bullshit and he’s an idiot if he thinks a fucking baby would strengthen a relationship that doesn’t  _exist_ , or should exist outside of the breeding room. And what the fuck is he thinking, defecting to steal a fucking  _carrier_. And Jared would tell her to fuck off and play with her girlfriend, because what she has with Rachel is what Jared wants from Jensen.

And then Lauren would smile, bitch one last time and help him. Chad, would just call him a fucking idiot and shrug with a – whatever man. I’m here for the ride.

Jared breathes deep, needing a clear head to forget for a bit that there’s a world outside of the room he shares with Jensen and that it might be possible to breathe any air that isn’t sopped with their mingled sex or hoarse voices.

Jensen stirs, hums softly and shifts closer to Jared and Jared’s cock hardens trapped in the hidden valley of Jensen’s ass and Jared’s overtaken with desire to crush Jensen’s bones to him.

Tentative, he dips a long finger along the crease, pushes into the soaked hot trap within, the wet sucking sound and the sight of Jensen’s small, come-glossed hole between his parted legs like a kiss, tight around Jared’s knuckle. He rocks his hand slow and restless, in and out so that seed and slick spill over.

Jared kicks the sheets away and urges Jensen on his stomach, his hand never losing contact even as he settles between Jensen’s legs and grips the back of his thigh. He guides his tongue along the slide of his finger to tease Jensen apart, nose pressed to the tip of Jensen’s spine and breath coming in short, quick bursts. Jensen twitches and groans, muscles contracting.

Jared is aware of the prick of sweat on his own skin, the spread of his own thighs as he kneels, the coolness of air sliding along the swale of his back, feeling as cut-open and raw as Jensen is in front of him. He feels vulnerable, dick and balls hanging swollen and heavy beneath him and his heart in his mouth, like he’s trying to force it into Jensen’s body, needing to bury it to the root until all that’s left is the coat of Jared’s want trickling over his chin and pooling on the bedspread in a growing damp stain.

 _“Jared?”_  Jensen’s thighs shift. “Jared?” It’s breathless, but forceful now. And Jared is slow to stop the slide in-and-out of Jensen’s body.

“Yeah, baby,” he says, nipping his soft skin. “Just cleaning you up.” His thumb runs over the place his mouth had been and finds a fleshy barrier there. He curls his a finger like a hook and tries again to tease the tight little entrance open. Muscles clench up and seal against Jared. Fuck, Jared has never seen a nicer ass.

“ _Stop_ it,” Jensen twists at the waist. “It’s  _gross_.”

Jared smiles softly and lets a trickle of amusement show, petting Jensen’s spine, and breathing the smell of sex filling the room like smoke, thicker than sunlight. 

“Does it feel good?”

He can all but  _hear_  Jensen blush. Sees the moment when he recognizes what Jared made of him only hours before. The way he strained to meet Jared’s thrusts and begged for release.

“Yes.”  

“Then it’s all that matters,” he smiles.

“Jared—“ Jensen’s eyes have lost the fuzziness of sleep and take on the hard gleam of river pebbles, mouth pinching into a rounded little heart, candy-colored freckles sharp over his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. Jared sits back with a sigh and lets Jensen go, leaning to move to the headboard, settling down with his back against it.

Jensen rolls over and rises to his knees, eyes widening as moisture gushes down his thighs.

“You fucked me,” he says, more to himself than Jared, eyes blinking slowly with what could be lust or malice or even self-satisfaction, and Jared feels uneasy with the uncertainty. It’s like Jared woke up to a different person than he’d fallen asleep with and maybe he did.

For the span of a breath he’s convinced Jensen is furious, but then Jensen’s mouth curves into a wry cat’s smile and his eyes hide away under his lashes, hand reaching between his parted legs, shy and wanton and all the contradictions Jared is learning Jensen to be.

Jensen still can’t look at him when he raises self-same palm to Jared, slicked fingers curled as though to say,  _here, take it._  Jared takes more than what’s offered, yanks Jensen to him, lifts him to sit on his lap, intent on driving into Jensen’s mouth but is stopped by a touch to his lips.

Jared’s throat tightens and his skin prickles tight. Jensen’s fingers wiggle between Jared’s lips as Jared licks at them, enjoys Jensen’s eyes on him as he does it so he keeps licking, and nipping, with Jensen squirming against him and Jared’s hand sliding over his back and another over his chest, catching a nipple between his knuckles, kneading and pulling until Jensen sighs and his neck becomes a too-long white gleam in Jared’s vision. Jared’s eyes drip closed as he draws Jensen’s fingers deeper.

Pain jolts the back of his head, a violent riotous color half-flame half-lightning strike. Jared did  _not_  see it coming.

“I didn’t say you could come in me, you fuck!” Jensen screams into his face, jarring him again with a backhanded blow to his cheek, teeth clacking together at the snap and unavoidable ricochet.

“I’m not breeding for anyone,” Jensen hisses, and is about to deal another blow when Jared catches his arm and rings the other, up ends Jensen and pins him to the mattress. Jensen flails, breathing out spit and sweat over Jared’s face, legs scrabbling over Jared hips. And Jared jabs his thumbs into the pressure points in Jensen’s wrists. Jensen grimaces, gnashing his teeth, but going stiff.

Jared’s fucking angry and impressed and aroused. He can’t decide what to do about it. Whether Jensen deserves to be punched, praised, or fucked. Understandably Jared is also having a hard time finding the words to salvage the situation.  _I’m sorry_  sounds too insincere and _it won’t happen again_ is probably the worst lie he could ever come up with.

“Please,” he begins, his mouth to Jensen’s cheek. “Stop fighting. Hear me out.”

The look Jensen gives him would send anyone running for the hills. Except Jared isn’t anyone and the only running he will ever do is toward Jensen.

It’s kind of fucked up and unfair to hold Jensen down and even more fucked up to be aroused by it; by his vulnerable, little body crushed to Jared’s chest, a beautiful wild thing, something to be captured or consumed in order to possess and it tumbles through Jared, speaks out for him when he says—

“I like you,” rather lamely. “I meant what I said. We’re going to get out of here.”

Jensen stops thrashing, panting in Jared’s face, the air humid with their mingled breath and sweat and stink of raw semen. Scent gone sharper, muskier, more arousing.

Jared doesn’t know what he should do next or trust Jensen enough to let him go. The arrow-shape of Jensen’s torso goes strangely curved into Jared’s, pushing up slow, chest, belly, hip, and cock, responding to Jared’s voice and his hands and his heat like an echo or maybe to some other thing, an instinctual thing, without rhyme or reason, but there just the same. Could be hormonal, could be chemical, could be just them sharing the same space.

“I may have fucked you,” Jared’s tone goes dark and soothing as he moves his mouth across the bunched muscles in Jensen’s shoulders, “But you’re the one who  _owns_  me now.”

It’s true and he shows it as he meets his reflection in Jensen’s eyes, but Jensen is no longer listening, no longer fighting Jared off but gathering him up into himself with the wrap of his legs and the push of his body and Jared has to wonder where the change comes from, if it’s at all intentional or something inherently biological and beyond Jensen’s control. But Jensen doesn’t mention or acknowledge it, too caught up in Jared, reaching for his mouth with his own.

And who is Jared to question it, or look a gift horse in the mouth? He’s more than ready enough for another of Jensen’s outburst and despite the heavy fullness in his groin, he feels it in a shiver up his spine, self-preservation on full alert.

Jared lifts off the mattress with Jensen’s clinging to him still, ankles hooked around his back and his dick riding the crease of Jared’s hip and Jared kind of bowls over on his ass, his back to the treacherous headboard, with Jensen sitting neatly astride, the hard caps of his knees cutting into Jared’s sides and a hand fanned over his cheek, tilting Jared’s face to his.

They grope blindly, breathing hard and loud through their noses, unwilling to break apart for what it takes to have Jared inside him, Jared’s fingers finding the spaces between Jensen’s ribs to pull him close, to put his mouth on the small, tight nubs of his nipples, gripping them greedily with his teeth.

Fingers snag in Jared’s hair, yank roughly, painful enough that Jared’s nails cut into the arc of Jensen’s backbone in retaliation, riding each vertebra to the dip of his ass, following shadows to slide into Jensen’s body.

He flattens his tongue over Jensen’s breast, taking as much of the hard muscle into his mouth as he can until Jensen snarls and gasps and quickly reaches down between them to guide Jared inside. Eyes heavy lidded, both distant and close and chasing the light over Jared’s face, tongue flicked out like a kitten’s, hand curled around Jared’s jaw, pulling him nearer.

It leaves Jared breathless, like being chased by something he can’t see and he moves by memory, by fractions, not too hard, not far enough, just enough to get the tip inside, holding Jensen up with his hands over his hips and his skin in Jared’s mouth until they blur and bleed together.  

Jensen squeezes Jared defiantly, closing around the crown as his head falls back, neck stretched to the sky, his hands gripping Jared’s shoulders and his knees stretching wide, displaying himself for Jared-- broad, plummy head of his dick dribbling, nuts tucked up tight.  There’s so much pressure on his cock, Jared’s having trouble breathing, because he wants nothing more than to work Jensen over, ride him raw until his dick feels like it’s burning, but Jared’s intent on simply holding Jensen open for now, hand closed on Jensen’s pretty dick.  

He strokes Jensen, slow and gentle, getting to know the weight of him, the texture. Keeps his hips still, but allows Jensen to slip down inch-by-inch, Jared’s come easing the way and Jensen dripping over his balls onto Jared’s impressively hard dick-- near purple and thick as his wrist now. Veins bulging obscenely as they disappear inside Jensen. 

The sight makes him dizzy, makes him want to shove up and come already, but he knows it’s sweeter to wait it out.  

“It’s  _good_ ,” he whispers, fingers tightly curled around Jensen’s dick, flicking a thumb over the frenum, wringing a shout from Jensen’s slack, flushed mouth. He wants more than a mindless fuck, always will with Jensen, and that makes Jared a dead man walking because he’s  _sinking, sinking, sinking_  until he’s trapped and unable to breathe, no room for shadows between them, no room for fear or doubt or anything that isn’t them, until they’re an indistinct shape, a single organism.

Jensen finds his mouth, dips his tongue inside, leaving Jared speechless as his ass comes down flush over Jared’s hips. And neither one of them moves. Except their tongues and teeth, lips meeting soft, more spirit than flesh.

And Jensen is the first to give into the heat between them, rocking, a little at first. His mouth  _wet_ , but his hole  _wetter_. 

He loves how much noise Jensen makes, like he’s fighting for his life, like he’s fighting for Jared’s, the way Jensen shivers and bites Jared’s throat, instinctively balancing himself against Jared’s chest as he rides and Jared shakes from relinquishing control, unused to it. But knowing Jensen needs it more. 

But he's far from disappointed. He gets to enjoy Jensen’s mindless pursuit of pleasure—bony cheeks daubed red, nostrils flared, lips parted and earthy-sweet, eyes slipped-shut like he’s dreaming. Nothing but slapping, liquid noises as they screw. Jensen pushing the wet of his ass over and over and over Jared’s hips.  

“Touch my nipples,” Jensen pants. “ _Put them in your mouth._  I wanna come with you  _sucking_  me.”  

 _“Oh, fuck,”_  Jared moans, hand tightening on Jensen’s dick and Jensen’s hand moving to cover his, seeking heat, setting rhythm and pressure, fluid controlled movement. Hips no longer slow but frenzied, concentrated thrusts. Jensen’s eyes go glassy and shadowy as Jared bounces him on his dick, making sounds like laughter,  _like joy_ , his skin lighting up with subterranean violence. 

Jensen’s skin splits in Jared’s mouth when they come, Jensen pulling Jared along with him, the taste of blood and sweat filling Jared’s mouth. Come spilling over and leaving sluggish tracks on their skin. Jensen’s muscles contracting around him delicious and filthy, sucking him dry, until Jared thinks he should beg to be let go, because it’s too painful, too hot and too tight. Jared can all but see Jensen overripe and sweet, with fingers fanned out over his growing belly, alive beneath his palm, enticing Jared, opening himself up for him, stretching himself tender with life, with Jared. With the thing he denied wanting. And maybe he still doesn’t want, because he’s sobbing against Jared’s shoulder and Jared feels like the worst sort of person.

But Jared doesn’t get it and apparently neither does Jensen. He doesn’t move and he doesn’t hit Jared and Jared counts it as a bitter win, because he  _wants_  Jensen to want.

“Hey,” Jared swallows, can’t remember ever being so unsure, much less afraid and he knows it’s from the fear of loss. The thing he’s spent an entire life trying to avoid. “Hey.” Jared has been in enough situations to recognize the danger of the moment.

Jensen is the antithesis of stable and predictable, but he doesn’t know Jensen well enough yet to know when not to give in to his needs. But Jared is kidding himself thinking he wasn’t giving in to his own either.

Jared has turned traitor. He’s not even put the plan into motion yet and he knows there’s no turning back. Especially not now, when it seems likely that coming together for the second time will bring the unwelcome consequence Jensen is either ambivalent about or helpless to control.

Jared thinks back on his conversation with Tapping.

Sex is honestly the only thing Jared has to soothe Jensen because he’s not fighting now and he’s not cursing up a blue streak. He’s quiet and drowsy as he had been after the first time.

Jared moves them together setting Jensen down and hovering over him and his heart breaks to see the fear on his face again, his legs falling open and his face turning away resigned, his lashes are wet and there’s salt on his cheeks and Jared is hit by tenderness for him, wanting desperately to know what is going on in Jensen’s head. Whether or not Jensen despises him.

He kisses Jensen’s cheeks and nudges at his jaw with his nose, a hand in his hair. It’s full of heat and urgency, the need for absolution.

“I’m okay now,” Jensen says and he grimaces when Jared pulls out. He looks nauseous, unaware of the openness in his expression.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I said I’m  _fine_.” And it’s the same calculating brushing away as before, a dismissal, like their hearts had not beat to the same rhythm only moments before, like he hadn’t felt the same white hot fire rending through him every time they fuck, as though he’s not as helpless and confused as Jared feels.

Jared hauls himself up with a hand around Jensen’s waist, dragging him with.

“What—“

“Gonna get you cleaned up,” Jared offers as explanation, lifting Jensen over his shoulder. That gets a shout and a knee, but Jared holds easily.

“THE FUCK?! Put me down!”

Jared doesn’t, just walks them into the bathroom as Jensen kicks and screams, slim long body heaving.

“Look, I know you didn’t want this and I wasn’t prepared for it,” Jared says as he sets him down on the tile. “And I doubt it’ll help any, but maybe it just might, to clean up?”

It’s an apology. When Jared turns away he half expects Jensen to barrel him over, knock him to the ground. When he doesn’t, Jared runs the water hot, feeling Jensen’s eyes on his back.

They step in at the same time, the stall easily large enough for four people with a built in bench and two showerheads on the ceiling overhead so Jared doesn’t have to bend down to wet his hair. He picks at the soap wrapper and it comes apart like candy.

Jared allows Jensen the chance to turn him down, when he doesn’t Jared slips the bar over his shoulders, moving his hair aside as he works up a lather over his back, the high and low of it, slips around to slide over his hips and the curve of muscle leading to Jensen’s half-hard cock. More soap and a touch and then Jensen’s legs part for him to trail his fingers inside, soap and semen running down his thighs as he rocks back on Jared’s palm to get him in deeper and Jared has to gather him in close, chest to back. Jensen lets him with a sigh, capitulating. Soap tumbling down to their feet and their bodies slip-sliding together again, making soft sucking noises full of desperation, full of bright lines, and brighter desire; the two of them a faultless unbroken landscape of flesh and bone, hearts made whole. And they hope against hope to find the answers to the questions that will come later.

But for now they have each other.


End file.
